Moments That Would Have Changed Everything
by Scarecrowqueen
Summary: A little series of one-shot "What if?" stories. Some chapters with Griffin/David slash and/or slash themes, AU
1. By Some Strange Coincidence

Disclaimer: The boys and Jumper in general do not belong to me.

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David blinked, sitting up slowly and taking stock of his surroundings. For the second time today he found himself in the non-fiction section of the Ann Arbor public library.

"Did I just… teleport?" he found himself asking the deserted stacks. "CLOSED DUE TO WATER DAMAGE" the sign read. Shrugging off the minor guilt, he climbed to his feet and made his way to the exit. There was a moment of panic before he discovered how to will himself outside the security bars, then taking a deep breath he pushed further and with a sharp displacement of air, materialized in his own bedroom. Drawing a heavy, astonished breath, he slammed his door shut, one ear tuned to the voices outside his window; his father talking to the police. Apparently they thought he was already missing, and if his mother could run away… He'd barely even consciously made his decision before he was rooting around his secret cubby hole, digging out his emergency stash and hurriedly stuffing that and a bunch of clothes into a duffle.

His frantic shuffling had unearthed and old box full of trinkets and memories. The topmost item had always been one of his most prized and secret possession; a photo of himself and his mother, taken on a long-ago visit to the Empire State Building in New York. The sight stopped David dead in his tracks, reaching for the picture in its cheap, worn frame. Neither of them had been focused on the camera, his father having taken the shot more for its candid nature than anything. David found himself dropping onto his mattress, using his free hand to pull his duffle into his lap, before running a finger lightly over the woman's face. Most of his memories of her were hazy with time and distance, but that day stood out like a beacon.

He remembered the long, long trip.

("Are we there yet? Are we there yet mommy?"

"Not yet baby, but soon, I promise")

He remembered the warmth of her hand as she'd led him, the unending elevator ride to the top, the sharp bite of the wind on his face, the tiny little ant-cars and ant-people below. He remembered her touch and the smell of her hair as she'd lifted him for a better look. The lump in David's throat was the size of a lemon and his eyes burned as he held back tears. Ten long years since that time…

It was only then that David was aware of the whole world shaking. No, just his room was shaking, jagged cracks running up the walls, dust shaking from the ceiling. Outside the window there was a startled cry, the sudden disturbance drawing the attention of his father and the officers. He heard them make for the front door…

Then he slammed painfully onto the harsh concrete butt first, the force of his arrival leaving a fairly impressive crater, cracks cob-webbing across a good section of the ground around him. Groaning, David shoved his duffle off him onto the shattered ground next to him, sluggishly taking to his feet. A quick glance around confirmed his suspicions. He was indeed on viewing deck of the Empire State building. It was nighttime, the place devoid of the usual tourists. David turned slowly in a circle, taking in the place he'd remembered so vividly, finding it pretty much unchanged. Save for the renovations David himself had just performed by accident. And of course, the boy sitting on the rail about twenty feet to his left, dressed in a battered hoodie and jeans, fingers of tousled dark hair brushing his forehead, the heavy flood light nearby casting deep shadows on a face no older than David's own. He was watching David with a level eye, expression solemn, and chicken nugget poised in mid dunk. It took David's poor, overwhelmed brain a moment to realize what he was seeing, causing him to pause, blinking comically, before flailing a little in shock.

The other boy must've found his awkwardness amusing, because he let out a harsh bark of laughter, like the crack of thunder in the quiet air. A quick motion had the aforementioned chicken nugget stuffed whole into his mouth, masticating furiously and McDonald's bag left abandoned as he hopped off the rail and made his way over to David.

"Y'know," the boy began in a musical British accent when he'd crossed about half the distance between them and finished chewing, "y'keep landing like that and you'll draw all sorts of attention. The wrong kind, mind you." Stopping only a foot away from David, uncomfortably in his personal space, the boy slouched casually, predatory hazel cat-eyes fixed solidly on David's own and belaying his relaxed demeanor. The boy still held in his left hand the tiny container of… honey, it seemed, that he'd been dipping his nuggets into. While David watched, speechless, the boy took his right index finger, and with all the grace of a seasoned dancer, dipped it in the honey, straight to the bottom. Entranced, David held eye contact with the strange teen as the finger was raised into the space between them, glossy with the sweet syrup, a slight twitch of the hand making the gesture an offering.

"Want some?" The boy's light baritone was melodic in the stillness, his breath fogging the air in the late November chill. David struggled, mouth working without coordination as he searched for his voice. He managed to croak out a weak "No, thanks" that squeaked a bit in the middle, causing an instant hot blush to heat his face. The boy grinned a little feral grin, before proceeding to take his own finger in between his full lips in an action so suggestively obscene it made David's stomach twist in a way that felt a little too warm and inviting to be discomfort. David watched wide-eyed, as twice more the boy repeated the action, the two never breaking eye contact until David drew a ragged breath and looked off to the side, stepping back a little to put another few inches of much needed space between them, and allowing him to clear his head enough to speak.

"Um, attention?" Ok, not and intelligent reply, but since his brain felt dangerously close to relocating itself in his lower head, he figured he deserved a little bit of slack. The other boy seemed overly amused by David's antics, which only drove David's flush deeper as he nodded in agreement.

"When you jump, genius. Pop from one place to another? Appear out of nowhere and startle poor innocent kids like me near off our dinner? You keep making such splashy entrances and they're going to find you" David felt the first stirring of cold creep into his chest at the non-nonsense tone in the other's voice.

"They?" He asked, knowing he wasn't going to like the answer. The other boy has his moment to look surprised now, momentarily forgetting his snack as he gaped at David. After searching David's open expression for a minute he seemed to come to an understanding.

"You have no clue, do you? About the Paladins, about the war, _about any of it?"_ The teen was gesticulating freely now with both hands, and David watched with the sinking certainty of a man who _knew _what was coming next as the last little bit of honey in the cup slopped onto the hand that was holding it, right onto the fleshy part between thumb and forefinger. The boy stopped waving his hands immediately. Everything froze for a moment, time suspended in the microcosm between them, making David's barely audible "_No_" almost echo in the air. In the uncomfortable moment of silence that followed, David deliberately slide his eyes away from the heavy speculating gaze of the other, only to accidentally come to rest on the hand still hovering, the sticky-smear of honey still shining wetly and provocatively. David swallowed thickly and let his eyes dart back to the other's face. The teen must have read his mind, because the Cheshire grin was back full force.

"I can tell you everything, if you like. I can teach you, if you want, everything you need to survive, even give you a place to stay if you've got nowhere to go. Just tell me your name, and say yes." David felt like he'd been hit in the chest, losing all his breath in one long exhale. The boys face was pregnant with possibility.

"Your name first." David managed through a mouth suddenly desert-dry. The boy's grin turned a modicum more welcoming and he executed a little half-salute in greeting with the sticky hand, David's eyes tracking the motion almost hungrily.

"Griffin O'Conner, at your service brother."

"David Rice, I'm not your brother, and _YES_." With a quick motion David's hand snapped out and caught Griffin's, lifting it to his mouth; holding gently so it could be pulled away if its owner wanted. It wasn't, so David set his lips to the sugary smear, just for one little taste, Griffin's please chuckle warming the air.

Seconds later, after collecting the forgotten duffle, there was nothing left but a new crater and a crumpled fast food bag to tell of the late night visitors.

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There you have it, the first in a series of what-could-have-beens. Hope everyone enjoyed!


	2. Cause I Caught Him Looking

Disclaimer: The boys are not mine, I just borrow them for my own nefarious purposes and return them unharmed.

This installment was named for a line from the Switches song "Lay Down the Law" which was playing in the bar scene in the movie.

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Griffin felt the jump more than he saw it, his body turning and eyes automatically searching out for the source of the disturbance; so small that most normal people didn't even notice. He'd picked the man out of the crowd in an instant; tall, attractive, and obviously charming if the swooning looks the blonde woman was shooting him were any indication. To anyone else's eyes there were just two people who'd met in a bar and were well on their way to getting lucky. Griffin knew better though.

Finding himself a convenient vantage point, he lurked in a nearby corner, nursing a beer for close to an hour. From his distance he couldn't tell what was being said, but he could make out the man's distinctive accent. American. Just bloody great. The more Griffin watched the smug, smarmy bastard, the angrier he felt himself getting. Bloody stupid American must've had a herd's worth of horseshoes up his arse to have survived this war unscathed for so long, as reckless as he was. Silently fuming and working himself into a right tizzy, Griffin watched and plotted _exactly_ what he was going to say to the dimwit the moment he could get him alone. Of course, getting him alone was looking to be a nearly impossible prospect from the way the blonde was reacting to the American's so-called smooth moves and clichéd lines. It was vaguely nauseating, Griffin decided, watching the man's handsome face shift elegantly to express the utmost of concentration and sincerity. Again, Griffin knew better.

Jumpers like them defied the laws of physics, what did mortal laws and standards of decency mean to people like them? Jumpers were adroit manipulators and liars when they wanted to be, creating cover stories and twisting evidence and outright fabricating anything they required to stay hidden, to remain innocuous and keep the secret. The other man was a pro in ways Griffin had never truly mastered, being more fond of punching or stabbing his way to a solution than negotiating, or heaven forbid, _charming _one out of somebody. Just not his style, really. Watching the American however was akin to watching the snake seduce Eve. A little of Griffin's anger faded as a new plan began to take form. It would be risky, and could very well blow up in his face, but the possibilities could be… exquisite. If the American would agree, of course.

I must have been Griffin's lucky day, because with a tempting smile and a pat on the arm the Blonde slid away from the bar and made for the ladies room. Probably to freshen up for the inevitable act of sexual congress, if the self-satisfied grin on the American's face was any indication. That seemed to be Griffin's cue for the cock-block, and taking a deep breath he allowed his stance to adjust ever so slightly, shrouding himself in the type of confident poise he needed to pull this off just right. Striding with purpose from the shadows, he crossed the room, feeling the crowd unconsciously part before him. Griffin may not have been as slick as his target, but he knew a little bit about power and confidence, and the body language that came with it; that kind that was capable of clearing a room in seconds when properly applied.

The move that slid Griffin neatly up to the bar and into the blonde's unoccupied place at David's elbow was flawless, despite being several years out of use. Griffin noted the movement from the corner of his eye that indicated that he'd grabbed David's attention. Griffin's right hand hefted the mostly-empty beer bottle, and with a lovely motion he raised it to his lips, letting his head tilt back just so and his eyes to close, exposing the long line of his throat, the motion of swallowing apparent. Relaxing his posture just a touch allowed his leather jacket to settle perfectly about his torso, which showcased the spread of his shoulders to the narrowness of his waist. The motion also pushed his hips forward a bare inch, drawing the American's eyes straight down the whole length of his body to rest somewhere around his belt buckle, just below the edge of the bar.

It took all Griffin's self control to not grin wildly as he settled back into a more normal standing position, leaving the bottle on the counter with a nod to the barkeep. While Griffin may have looked as casual as could be, every sense he had was attuned to the response of the man next to him. Interestingly enough, the man who'd spent the whole night chatting up the hottest girl in the joint was now lending a critical eye towards Griffin, which was exactly what he was hoping for. Most people who may have eyed that move wouldn't have noticed what Griffin was really showing off, and what he'd counted on the American noticing. Which of course was the power Griffin had compacted into his slender frame, the subtle play of wiry muscles beneath his skin, the edge of a scar at his collar, and the pent up kinetic energy coiled within, ready to react in a moment to the slightest threat. Griffin had declared himself dangerous to anyone who knew what to look for, and someone as adept at beguiling as the American was would definitely know what to look for.

In fact he seemed unable to look away. Griffin stopped fighting the little satisfied smirk then, addressing the other man in a low tone with the barest tilt of his head, eyes focused somewhere past them both. On the surface he seemed nonchalant, but they both knew otherwise.

"Been watching you half the night, with that girl." As he spoke, Griffin shifted to face the other man, making the first obvious move on interest towards him all night, allowing his weight to rest on one elbow in the bar, hip leaning into the wood and entire posture at odds with his sharp gaze.

"Jealous?" The American's seemingly unassuming smile had a razor edge to it now, Griffin noted. Excellent, he'd caught on to the game; they could play for keeps now. Griffin let their eyes meet now, upping the ante for his response.

"Perhaps of her, a little." Griffin shifted a little more at that, allowing his body to cant towards his companion in a way that was full of suggestion. The other didn't miss it, and while there was some genuine surprise in his expression, there was a low thrum of curious heat as well. Perfect, Griffin thought, now it was time to reel him in…

"Excuse me, but I think that's my spot you're lounging in."

Cursing inwardly, Griffin turned to face the blonde woman he'd forgotten would be returning. Apparently by the American's surprised expression, he had forgotten too. That boded well for Griffin's purpose, and making a split second decision, he smiled his most placating smile at the frowning woman and straightened, taking hold of the American's elbow as he did and pulling him along towards the door. The other man stumbled for a second but quickly allowed himself to be led, if out of nothing but bemusement at Griffin's forwardness, even as the Brit turned and offered a parting shot over his shoulder to the furious blonde.

"Sorry love, you left him unattended, so it's my hookup tonight!" Well, well, that might have even been a giggle the other man smothered at Griffin's audacity. Nice to know he could entertain.

"My umbrella…" the Yank began as they crossed the threshold into the spitting rain, but Griffin, still leading at a brisk pace, one hand tight on the other man's elbow, merely shot a "Get a new one!" over his shoulder as he pulled his cooperating hostage into a reasonably dark and ignored alley. Once inside and slightly sheltered by the buildings, he spun the American and pushed him firmly against the damp brick and pinning his there with the warm weight of his body, his hands locked around the taller man's wrists, holding them to the wall on either side of the man's head. This close, Griffin could feel the man's heartbeat and breathing speed slightly, confirming that this little flirtation of theirs at least had some merit, even if they both knew it was just a front. The American smirked at Griffin and let himself relax, the change in his body causing his hips and belly to rub into griffin the slightest bit, and Griffin found himself biting back a hiss at the surprisingly pleasurable contact. In the second it took to re-orient himself, the other man took control for the first time, demanding answers.

"Now that you've interrupted my plans for the evening, do you want to tell me what this is really about?"

"You're name first." The American scowled a bit but answered

"David and yours?" Griffin grinned brightly and without warning, Jumped them both into the lair, David stumbling to his knees without the wall to support his weight anymore. Griffin took advantage, snagging a pair of handcuffs from the desk next to them and snapping one side of the metal restraints onto the wrist he still held, before securing the other to his own wrist. Bound as they were, it would be impossible for David to escape without dragging Griffin with him, and from the look on his face David knew it too.

"It's Griffin, and we, my friend, need to chat."

"You crazy bastard! How did you…" With a snort, Griffin swiftly cut off the rant before it could fully form.

"Please, like you're the only Jumper of Earth." Up until now, Griffin had assumed the man was cocky and arrogant, and while that was probably true to some degree, the completely baffled look on David's face began to paint a different picture. Uneasily, he found himself speaking again. "Wait, you did, didn't you? You have no bloody clue? Have you ever even _seen_ a Paladin before?" When David's baffled look only deepened, Griffin sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face, all pretenses dropping and wishing he'd had more than one beer while he'd had the chance.

"Right then, well that bloody changes everything. Allow me to summarize; Paladins kill Jumpers. I kill Paladins. Class dismissed." David gaped at him, completely slack-jawed and still on his knees, having not found the wherewithal to stand. Griffin had to admit, he made a pretty picture as he was… right, focus. Once again, the other man used his moment of distraction to turn the tide.

"Paladins kill Jumpers plural, so there are a lot of us? Why do the Paladins do it? Is there some kind of resistance or something, or are you just the Lone Ranger? Should I be looking for Tonto?" David had climbed to his feet now, sarcasm brought to full bore. He seemed to be regaining his equilibrium, which please Griffin as the Brit had no desire to mollycoddle.

"Oh, very clever, my friend. Tell me, are you always so reckless? Jump, Jump, Jump, here, there, everywhere?" Griffin emphasized his point with broad hand motions, which naturally pulled David's cuffed wrist along for the ride, and drew the taller man into even closer quarters with the other. Griffin ignored the continued closeness, instead putting his energy into using his words to make a dent in that thick American skull. "The only conceivable reason I can think of that you are still alive and weren't offed at the age of five is that you've got someone covering for you. Tell me, Davy, you got friends in high places?" David had a combined look of annoyance and confusion on his face now.

"Friends in high places? Doubtful. And five years old? What's that got to do with anything?" Griffin blinked, a little surprised.

"Jumper's manifest at five, Einstein, and most don't make it to see six."

"Then I must've been the late bloomer, I made my first Jump at fifteen." Griffin's brows furrowed at that.

"Impossible, no such thing. Mark my words you Jumped at five." David was getting riled, proportionately more so than he should have been for merely being accused of lying. Like a dog with a bone, Griffin latched on to the thought and kept going. "Something happened, didn't it? When you were five? Whether you remember that first Jump or not."

"My mother left, ok? That's what you wanted to hear?" David seethed now, defiant, every line of his body tightened, waiting for the inevitable fight. Griffin didn't give it to him; he was too busy slotting all the little puzzle pieces together to make a very disturbing whole. With a sharp jerk, he whipped around and strode to the other side of the room, David stumbled and cursing behind him.

"_Jesus Christ Griffin_, what now?" Griffin spun to face the taller man and pointed grimly at his wall of faces, all the painstaking years of accumulated information on the members and movements of the Paladin organization.

"Recognize any of these people?" David glowered at him for a moment longer, before turning a skeptical eye to the wall. It only took a few seconds of skimming the images before he froze, colour leeching from his face so quickly that Griffin was afraid he might pass out from shock. A trembling hand came up and pressed two fingers to one picture, just below the jawline of the woman in the photo.

"Mom." David said in a strangled voice, and Griffin nodded, understanding.

"She's been in it for a while, odds are that's why she left, it was that or kill you. You should probably consider yourself lucky, she's likely been covering for your indiscreet arse since." Griffin was cut off here by David's renewed fury.

"Yeah some mother alright! I was five and she ran off and left me to the mercy of my drunken father. Got the scars to prove it." David took a menacing step forward, but Griffin put a hand to his chest and stopped the advance.

"Manly displays later, I'm here to make you an offer. Work with me, help me take out as many of the bastards as I can, eventually you'll run into her, right? You can get your answers then." David was back to gaping at Griffin.

"I'm a lot of things, but I'm not a killer! And if they're gonna be coming after me anyways, what would I need you for?" Griffin rolled his eyes, exasperated.

"Are you any good in a fight David? Against multiple opponents? Do you know anything about their weapons? About how to avoid them, or lose them once they've caught up to you? Cause they always catch up David. And when they do, people die. Anyone that gets in their way is dead, David. That pretty blonde from the bar? Dead. The teenage boy who fixes your latte every morning? Dead. The nice old lady in your building who makes you cookies for your birthday? Dead. Don't even get me started on what they'll do to your real loved ones to get to you. I know these things David, I've lived it." Griffin's solemn expression added credence to his words, and David felt his stomach sinking.

"Do you have anyone, David? Friends, family? People you've kept in touch with that they could track?" David shook his head.

"My dad and a close friend, but I haven't contacted either since I ran away at fifteen. I fell through the ice on the river; they all think I'm dead. And even though they never found a body, that was eight years ago, I'm presumed dead by now anyways." Griffin nodded again, pleased.

"That's good, if you're legally dead, it gives the Paladins no reason to go sniffing about your old life looking for clues. In fact, there's a good chance they don't even know who you are. You're going under a fake name I take it?" At David's confirmation, Griffin hazarded a grin. "Even better, it will be near impossible to track them down, as long as you stay away. That means forever David, no visits, no calls, nothing. Give the Paladins no reason to connect you to them." David agreed, then froze.

"Griffin… I have a couple of pictures, in my apartment in New York. They're well hidden; I have a room built behind a solid wall, Jumper-access only, but still…"

"First thing tomorrow then, you jump us both into that room and we clean it out, yeah? Then I teach you how to go about this properly." David snorted and shook his head.

"I haven't agreed to anything yet. And like I said, I'm not a killer!" Griffin scoffed again.

"It's them or you Davy, you'll change your tune soon enough." Griffin tried to smile ingratiatingly, but was pretty sure he'd bared a little too much canine for it to be effective, and decided to aim for humour instead. "Like you'd really turn down the opportunity to be my sidekick." David snorted loudly.

"Whatever you say, Kemosabe. We both know you went through all the trouble of hitting on me, Jumping me into this damn cave of yours…"

"It's a lair, in the Sahara."

"Whatever, Griffin. Anyways, you Jump me out here and handcuff me to your wrist to keep me from running away, for what? To warn me? Out of the goodness of your heart? Please, I'll bet you're lonely, mister 'one-man-army.'" Griffin tried not to it it show how close to home those words had hit, instead brushing the statement off with a shrug.

"I'm going for takeout, looks like your coming with."

"You're not going to unlock the handcuffs?" David looked rather perturbed by the idea, and Griffin, wanting a moment alone to clear his head, conceded the point. Fishing the key out of a nearby drawer, he unlocked the cuffs and watched David rub his wrist gently after being freed.

"If you agree, be here when I get back." With that parting shot, Griffin Jumped. David watched him go, then settled down to lie on the couch, flinging one leg over the back. He'd be here alright. Maybe he'd regret this later, regret tossing away his entire life and eight years of freedom on what was essentially a chance meeting in a London bar, but somehow, he felt that this person, this odd man known as 'Griffin, fellow Jumper and Slayer of Paladins,' would make every moment worthwhile. Or maybe they'd just drive each other crazy, but hey, nothing ventured, right?


	3. Class Dismissed

Disclaimer: I owe to much money to own Jumper

Soooooo, this was meant to be a lot like the previous two stories; a little funny, a little angsty, but mostly cute. Then I started writing, and this came out. Darker things ahead, y'all.

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Unbalanced in shock and surprise, David tumbled through several stacks of disks on his way to the floor. Pushing himself up, his eyes rose to the face of the strange man he'd just met moments before in Rome. The awkward moment caused by his accidental fall into what seemed to pass as some sort of war room demanded an explanation.

"I just came through your jump scar." And now he was a giant dork on top of trespassing loser, great. David gave himself a scathingly sarcastic mental pat on the back.

**"**What do you think you're doing here? Huh? If I were you, I'd jump back. You're not supposed to see all this stuff. Get out! So if you'd like to kindly fuck off, as in now. Maybe your girlfriend's still alive." The other Jumper's agitation was both understandable and still somehow out of proportion, David figured, considering he'd been to one to introduce himself in the first place, all question methods of introduction aside of course. It was about that moment, that the last bit sank in, and with a soft utterance of her name, David jumped away to find her. He had to get Millie out of the coliseum before those Paladins, or the Roman police found her there.

Of course, things couldn't possible go that smoothly. Thankfully that British Jumper had apparently taken care of the Paladin threat for the time being, but the coliseum security guards, backed by the police, were already flooding the walkways cutting off most of the escape routes. David cursed, and continued pulling Millie along behind him, trying to stay out of sight among the rubble for long enough to get the hell out of dodge. Millie for her part wasn't making things any easier, resisting his attempts to lead her, and spluttering out a constant stream of objections and questions. It was moments like this; David thought grimly, that he wished she was a little more passive. Or at least a little more trusting. Not that she really had any reason to, he'd hardly been honest with her, after all, a fact that was very soon going to bite them in the ass, as the only way to get out of this mess as far as David could see, was to jump both himself and Millie to the other side of the planet. At that moment, David caught a glimpse of their pursuers coming straight at them from no less than every side. Near panicked and with only seconds to spare, David turned to Millie, pleas for her trust already on his lips.

"David-" she said, eyes wide, the police hollered something in Italian, there was a burst of displaced air beside them, and then a hand was on his shoulder and the world was spinning.

David crashed down hard onto a familiar sandy floor. With a grunt of pain for his abused ribcage, he slowly pushed himself to his feet, hearing fragile plastic crack beneath him, which he summarily ignored in favour of standing and lending aid to Millie. The girl was sitting back to the wall a few feet away, looking completely shell shocked and disoriented. David didn't blame her, long-distance jumps had left him feeling vaguely nauseous too until he'd acclimated to the sensation of suddenly changing of environments. Human's really didn't realize how much general humidity, barometric pressure, and even distance from sea level affected your perception until you discovered the ability to rapidly alter all three and more in an eye-blink. Millie didn't seem to be appreciative of his concern though, if the slaps to his face and shoulder meant anything. Shoving him away with her slowly returning strength, she slid up the wall to her feet, leaning heavily on the sandstone for support, or maybe in terror, with the way she was staring back and forth between David and the Jumper that had just abducted them. Or rescued, David supposed, if he was inclined to feel grateful. David took another step toward Millie, hand reaching out to her, only to freeze when she flinched and shrank back a little further into the wall. Despite that, she was barely looking at him, focusing almost solely on the stranger who was now crouched next to the stack of CD's that David had knocked down and his first trip here minute before, and also the apparent location of his second landing, as David's recollection of cracking plastic seeming to match up with the handful of crushed cases the man was sorting out and setting aside, restacking the whole one's in unorganized towers. As if he could feel the weight of their twin gazes, he looked up at them from the floor, a bored look on his face and tone in his voice.

"Oh, you two still here? Figured you'd be halfway to Uganda by now. Nice weather there, this time of year. I'd check it out. Right away. As in, get out of my lair now, fuck-you very much." While rude, there didn't seem to be much real heat behind the words, which invited David to inquisition his host. Unfortunately, it also invited Millie to demand answers from both as well, her confusion cutting into David's words.

"Why did you do that? You show up…"

"What just happened, David? Where…"

"…out of the blue, get into this battle royale…"

"…the police? David what haven't you told…"

"…and save both our asses, and for what?"

"_ENOUGH!" _The word was practically a roar, as the smaller man finished with the disks and stood, real anger present now. David wisely closed his mouth with a click mid-sentence, but Millie soldiered on, demanding answers from both males in a continuously rising tone. The other Jumper tilted his head at David and for a brief second their eyes met. The other man raised his eyebrow the slightest degree, somehow managing to convey to David his currently good-natured exasperation, as well as a subtle accusation for being the reason she was present at all. For the smallest of instants David felt a bond on camaraderie with the other Jumper, offering the barest of shrugs in apology. Of course, Millie noticed the gesture, and the look she directed David's way would've peeled paint, had the Brit been concerned enough to have decorated in the first place. The look put David on the defensive; however Millie didn't get a chance to say a word before the other jumper interrupted.

"Quiet sweetheart, grownups need to talk now." David didn't even think before his defensive ire was re-directed at the other man.

"Hey, don't talk to her like that!" The Brit snorted.

"Easy there caveman, you want your questions answered? You should try being polite before I kick your ass across the space-time continuum." David gritted his teeth but obeyed; no doubt in his mind that despite the size difference between them, the smaller man was better trained, more experienced and probably ruthless enough to do so. Millie also picked up on the hint, glowering at the man but staying silent.

"Right, now that we're all being civilized, I'm Griffin." The man gestured to him chest with both hands, "and this," a wide gesture to encompass the entirety of the room "is my lair. With me so far?" Biting his tongue and trying to let the patronizing tone roll off his back, David gave a terse nod. Millie didn't look like she was doing much better, although she wasn't shrinking into the wall anymore, fear replaced with righteous fury. Griffin, as he was now known, obviously noticed the tension and seemed to delight in it, allowing increasing amounts of sarcasm to creep into his tone, face and figure growing a little more animated as his speech continued.

"As for what you're boytoy isn't telling you, _we_" a rapid back-and-forth motion of the hand in the air between the two men "are Jumpers, genetic anomalies capable of teleporting anywhere on Earth. And Casanova here" a hand flicked toward David, "brought the Paladins right down on both your heads, probably with his here-a-jump, there-a-jump, everywhere-a-jump-jump attitude. Didn't have a clue, did you?" David opened his mouth to protest, to defend himself, to say anything in response but Griffin steamrolled both him and Millie, continuing right along.

"You're both hooped now. They know what you look like, doubtless they know where you live, and anything else that might be relevant. You can't go home, they'll find you. Even you, Missy, or Minnie, or whoever you are, they'll kill you to get to him. Just cause they can, y'know, cause we're abominations, yeah? Cause 'only God should have to ability to be all places at all times' or some such rubbish. They're madmen you ask me." Millie was looking at David now, with slowly dawning horror, and the cold ball in the pit of David's stomach spread.

"Millie, I didn't mean, I didn't know…" David stepped closer, reaching for her arm, but she hissed and drew back, shaking her head. "Millie, please…" But the woman didn't listen, instead she spun and half-ran, half-stumbled down the hall to where a glint of sunlight could be seen. David moved to follow, but Griffin grabbed his arm and held him back.

"She won't go far; we're in the middle of the Sahara." David gave a halfhearted tug against the hold that restrained him, but acquiesced to Griffin's will, the other man letting go as soon as he was confident David wouldn't bolt. Abandoning David to his thoughts, Griffin wandered over to the corner where he'd left the unconscious Paladin. At least, David thought as he tracked Griffin's progress in the corner of his eye, he hoped the man was only unconscious and not outright dead. The younger man shrugged off his leather jacket, tossing it over the back of the couch and pushed some magazines off the cushions, making himself comfy and switching on a videogame console. While waiting for the game to load, Griffin glanced at David, still standing looking a little lost and confused, and sighed, picking up a couple of empty pop cans off the other side of the couch and tossed them in the general direction of the Paladin on the ground. David watched one hit the ground and roll, and the other bounce off the man's chest before rolling to join the first. Under such close scrutiny, it was obvious that the man didn't appear to be breathing, and David just knew that if he put his hand to the pale, waxy skin of the man's neck, he'd find no pulse.

"Griffin, that guy…"

"I'll take care of him later." Griffin had obviously noticed too, but didn't seem overly concerned, in fact he didn't even look away from his game, thumbs flying over the controller faster than anything David had ever seen. David distractedly watched Griffin tap out combos for a few minutes, listening with half an ear as Griffin murmured about special moves, showing him the button sequences that matched. It wasn't until the action on screen suddenly froze, that David came back to full awareness. He turned to face Griffin, but the Jumper was staring straight ahead at the paused screen, hands and controller lying idle in his lap. He didn't turn, didn't glance over, and didn't make eye contact with David. While his face was otherwise expressionless, the tension was visible in his tightly clenched jaw.

"Think me a monster if you will David, I hardly care. Maybe I am, maybe I'm exactly the boogeyman of their nightmares they believe that all Jumpers are. But they started this war. They hunted me down, they killed my family, twice over actually. And my girlfriend…" Griffin stopped here, making a little noise in the back of his throat, eyes still straight ahead and gaze distant, but he lines of stress on his face were far more visible now than a moment ago. "They only way to stop them is to kill them, believe me, nothing else short of that works. They won't rest, they won't stop, and they don't care who they hurt or kill to get to you. You want the people you love to stay alive, David? Then you'd better get used to the idea of _this._" Griffin leapt to his feet, hauling up the right sleeve of his t-shirt and straightening his arm to showcase the silver lines of the electrical burn scars. "Or how about this?" he snarled, yanking down the side of his collar to show more vicious lines around his throat. "Roland gave me that himself, in Nepal. Of course, that's nothing compared to _the retaliation!_" A slight pause, then Griffin let out a strangled wail, lashing out so swiftly and violently with one foot that David flinched, even though the kick was aimed in the opposite direction from him. The body of the Paladin jerked hard when the black boot connected, sliding a couple inches on the gritty floor from the force. When David raised his eyes, Griffin was still staring at the corpse, tightly leashed anger and agony making his whole frame quiver, sucking in heavy breathes through parted lips, a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead. Suspended in that moment, David wanted to put a hand on his shoulder in comfort, or brush back the lock of hair that had fallen toward Griffin's eyes, or hell, even kick the corpse himself. He did nothing however, because at that moment a slight shuffling noise behind them drew the attention of both men.

Millie stood in the middle of the room, arms tightly crossed under her breasts and shifting from foot to foot awkwardly. No one had to say a word, but it was apparent that Millie had heard and seen everything. Griffin pulled himself back into his shell then, sitting down, turning back to his game and picking up the controller, although he didn't take it off pause. Silence reigned, save for the sound of Millie's feet on the stone floor as she crossed to the couch, perching on the arm on David's side and drawing her legs up, knees close to her chest. She brushed her long brunette hair from her face, then began to pick at her nails, eyes lowered. She gave both hands a good look-over before she began speaking.

"I can't leave unless you take me." She didn't look up to specify which Jumper she was talking to, but David responded with a vaguely affirmative noise, Griffin as good as a statue for all he was moving. Millie started back on the first hand again, before giving it up and clasping them together, stretching her arms out in front so her elbows were on her knees, head turned to the side and resting on her extended arms, facing David head on. "So, what'll it be, David?" Her dark eyes were full of weight and meaning, and David knew she was asking far more from him than the simple question implied. Feeling suddenly overwhelmed David turned to look at Griffin. The Brit was still staring straight ahead at the television screen, but in the reflection he was staring right at David and they're eyes caught. Moment of truth, David thought, weighing his options carefully, before finally speaking.

"What do we do with the bodies?" Choice made, David let his eyes drift to the dead Paladin so he didn't have to see the strange relief and heartbreak in both Millie and Griffin's eyes.


End file.
